


A Well-Chosen Moment

by GovernorKristique



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:53:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29855622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GovernorKristique/pseuds/GovernorKristique
Summary: During her first week as Governor of Wentworth Correctional Centre, Joan Ferguson meets with the reigning top dog, Jacs Holt. To work together to bring down Franky Doyle, they must find a way to reckon with their turbulent past.I've been curious about what a sexual dynamic might look like between Joan & Jacs had they met, so this is me playing with one possibility of what that may look like. <3
Relationships: Joan Ferguson/Jacs Holt
Comments: 9
Kudos: 9





	A Well-Chosen Moment

“Holt for you Governor,” Vera Bennett said quietly as she escorted Jacs into the Governor’s office. Joan Ferguson turned around slowly, her eyes running over the prisoner’s strong form. “Thank you Ms. Bennett. You are free to resume your post,” Joan replied. Vera nodded and closed the door behind her, her kitten heels clattering down the hall as she scurried away to H block. “A private meeting with the new Governor. I’m honoured,” Jacs drawled with a sly smile. “Hello Jacqueline,” Joan tutted. 

“How’ve you been Ms. Ferguson?” Jacs asked with a knowing smile. Joan cocked her eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Take a seat Ms. Holt,” she said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk. Jacs smirked and sat down, carefully watching the taller woman as she drew the blinds closed. “You look older,” Jacs remarked. Joan smirked and crossed her arms, peering down her nose at the reigning top dog. “Corrections is hardly a young woman’s game on either side of the bars Jacqueline. Evidently,” she drawled as she examined the lines that had deepened around Jacs’ eyes. “Nice to see you in the Governor’s attire,” Jacs said. “Hm,” Joan tutted as she leaned against her desk in front of the shorter woman. 

“I must say I’m surprised to see you in prison uniform again. If memory serves me well, you were never one to get your hands dirty. I thought you might have applied the same philosophy to your life on the outside when you made parole,” Joan observed. Jacs chuckled under her breath and shook her head. “A sharp memory indeed. But I’ve learned that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself...after all, it can be tough to find loyal allies who share your  _ vision _ ,” Jacs purred with a smirk. 

Joan’s lips parted in surprise as she studied the prisoner before her. She cocked her head, trying to get a read on Jacs. “Whatever happened to Bryant Ms. Ferguson?” Jacs asked mischievously. Joan flared her nostrils and adjusted her business cards. “Released on parole. Early in fact, on account of good behaviour,” she drawled. Jacs chuckled and drummed her fingernails on the armrest of her chair. “I figured as much. Can’t imagine she would’ve stepped out of line after you got to her,” Jacs tutted as her eyes rolled up and down Joan’s imposing stature. “Ha,” Joan replied dryly. 

“I must say I’m impressed by you Ms. Ferguson,” Jacs said. “Why’s that?” Joan drawled with a subtle smirk. Jacs stood up and stared at the taller woman; the amber light of the yard giving her green eyeshadow a warm sparkle. “You used to be quite the gentle pussycat. That is, until you lost your shit,” Jacs remarked, watching as Joan dug her fingernails into the corner of the desk. “Well, fifteen years is a long time Jacqueline. People change,” Joan retorted. 

“No one can change the essence of who they are Joan. But I appreciate that Blackmoore did a number on you. As did I,” Jacs murmured. “It’s  _ Governor _ to you,” Joan snapped. Jacs held her hands up in compliance as she smiled maliciously. “My deepest apologies Governor. I hope I didn’t touch a nerve,” she said playfully. Joan inhaled sharply and crossed her arms once more. “I suppose I should be thanking you Ms. Holt,” she said with a forced smile. “Should you now? And why’s that?” Jacs inquired curiously. 

“You showed me the error of my ways. A compassionate and empathetic disposition is a waste of time when it comes to the likes of prisoners. A stern demeanour and strong hand are far more effective methods of correction,” she said quietly as she stroked the pair of leather gloves on the edge of her desk. 

“Well, that’s sweet isn’t it?” Jacs chuckled. Joan tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “How do you figure?” she challenged. Jacs shook her head and picked up one of Joan’s business cards, gingerly tracing her name with the tip of her finger. “A shy and weak-willed woman rises from the ashes once she’s been hurt one too many times. Loses her shit, takes it out on those weaker than herself. Vows never to be victimized again, dons a visage of stone. It’s unoriginal, but endearing I suppose,” Jacs purred. Joan cocked her eyebrow as she noticed the glimmer of Jacs subtle pink lip gloss. “But none of us truly change Ms. Ferguson. We’re marked by our past. Scars never truly heal…” Jacs muttered. Joan smirked and rolled her eyes. “Always the poetic wordsmith,” she drawled sarcastically. 

Jacs stepped forward, daring to encroach on the raven-haired woman’s personal space. “Let me see it,” she said quietly as she arrested Joan’s gaze. Joan furrowed her brow and ignored the question. “Jacqueline, my staff have advised me that while you aren’t exactly popular, by and large you can keep the women in line. I also understand that Franky Doyle is attempting to traffic drugs in my prison. While I am capable of stopping the drug supply myself, I thought it might be prudent for you to capitalize on the opportunity to contain her since the women’s confidence in your leadership is...dwindling,” Joan said calmly. 

Jacs cocked her eyebrow and grinned salaciously. “Surprised you don’t want Francesca for yourself Governor. After all, you did seem to enjoy the younger sort,” Jacs teased. Joan sighed in frustration. “Do we have an understanding?” Joan pressed. Jacs nodded silently as she unbuttoned the bottom of Joan’s uniform jacket. Joan grabbed the mature woman’s wrist and chuckled as she winced. “Enlighten me Jacqueline. What, precisely, do you think you’re doing?” she asked with a sadistic twinkle in her eye. 

“Let me see it,” Jacs taunted. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” she said seductively. Intrigued, Joan released Jacs’ wrist and gave her a gentle shove backwards. She removed her jacket and untucked her crisp white shirt. She hooked her thumb in the waistband of her trousers and pulled them down just below her hip as she lifted her shirt, exposing a large white scar across the side of her belly. Jacs stepped forward and gently trailed her finger along the faded mark. “Do you remember why you gave this to me Jacqueline?” Joan asked provocatively. Jacs chuckled and pulled her teal collared shirt down her arms tossing it aside. “Because you were a clit-licking fanny bandit. Thought you were trying some lezzo funny business when you cornered me in the showers,” Jacs recalled. 

“Hm,” Joan bit her lip and smiled devilishly as Jacs abandoned her shirt, revealing the thick white scar above her breast. “Yes, I do remember you had quite the colourful vocabulary when it came to terrorizing the sapphics of Blackmoore…” Joan trailed her thumb over the scar, letting it dip into the blonde woman’s nude bra. She stared into Jacs’ hazel eyes as she gently caressed her soft skin, brazenly trailing her thumb over the shorter woman’s nipple. “Now tell me, exactly how old were you when you finally fucked a woman for the first time Jacqueline?” she whispered lasciviously. Jacs met Joan’s dark gaze with a playful glint in her eye. “Fifty six,” she grinned. “I see,” Joan smirked as she felt a gentle heat stirring between her thighs. Joan began to remove the pins from her hair as she peered down at her former rival. 

“Take care of Doyle, and in exchange for your compliance, I am willing to authorize regular visits with your husband upon his release. Do we have a deal?” Joan purred as she gave her hair a shake, letting the jet black locks fall to her shoulders. Jacs extended her hand and shook Joan’s as she hungrily breathed in the formidable woman she used to mock. “Deal,” she drawled.


End file.
